


The Roman Word for Love

by rei_butterfly_babe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, I mean this story is not too heavy on the angst but still, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Protective Steve Rogers, Romantic Soulmates, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-25 15:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30091020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rei_butterfly_babe/pseuds/rei_butterfly_babe
Summary: Where you had bruises, cuts, and scars your soulmate got flowers. Everyone is born with a soulmate. Bucky Barnes lived long enough to have two.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers & Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	1. Introductions

Hi! Welcome to The Roman Word for Love. I'm Jae nice to meet you. I started this series on tumblr a while ago and since I'm picking it up again, I figured I wanted to share it with more people. I love you guys and enjoy your stay! Inspired by @revengingbarnes’s beautiful Flowers Bloom series on tumblr. I based the soulmate flower markings on the ones from her fic. Highly recommend reading her story. It’s beautiful. Comments keep me going, so please if you are enjoying your stay feel free to drop one below. I absolutely love hearing from you! <3


	2. It was the first time he’d looked

It was the first time he’d looked since he’d been awake. A deep-seated fear prevented him. If they were there she was still here, far away but alive, having survived without him. If they were not, she’d gone.

It had hit him out of the blue. They had broken him many times over, made him a shell. It was a miracle he was free, and another that he’d still had the memories.

He fondly pictured the green Chamelaucium, waxflower, that once peppered his body. Remembered watching a cluster bloom on his knee as he had helped her off the schoolyard pavement after racing each other back to Mrs. Hollie’s. How full his heart was knowing he had found the person who completed him. He recalled how excited they were to grow old with together. How heartwrenching it was to say goodbye when he went off to basic training.

Bucky sat quietly on his bed, following the neckline hem of this shirt with his fingertips, unconsciously chewing on the inside of his left cheek. Suddenly he was too aware of himself, too aware of how his breath caught in his throat, too aware of how hot his body felt, how his hand had begun to perspire.

He pressed the fabric harshly between his thumb and index, letting the feel of the stitching center him as his heart pounded in his chest. He summoned her visage to the forefront of his mind. Dot. How her red hair swayed as she danced around him. How beautiful her sleeping face was as she slumbered close to his side. How her emerald green eyes shined in the sun. How she held his hand in hers, holding his whole being, his soul, his heart. How her smile never failed to steal the breath from his lips.

A cacophony of emotions stirred within him, making him almost dizzy. He drew his eyes forward as he drew in a breath and the fabric away from his chest.

Tucking his chin, he let his eyes fall onto his skin, to where it had been. It was his favorite.

She’d gotten it sneaking into a dance hall when they were teenagers. A rogue wire had dragged itself on the delicate skin just under her left collarbone. As they grew older the scar became his favorite place to place soft kisses and she returned them on his corresponding floral mark.

He shut his eyes running his hand over his face letting two stray silent tears run down his cheeks and drip onto his lap. His hands ice cold. There was nothing there. Blank skin.

He wondered. How long had she’d been gone, how she’d felt when he didn’t return. He let his heart break in his chest but knew there was nothing to be done. It’d been almost a century. What had he expected?

He wallowed in the sorrow for a bit longer before absentmindedly dragging his fingers along a patch of his once illustrated skin.

This life had taken so much from him.

But the world dragged on, a concept he was all too familiar with. He continued existing, sadness behind his eyes. Since he’d returned to the world his eyes had always held a quality of melancholy but now was the added distress of the subconscious reminder that with his soulmate gone. He was once again incomplete.

He returned to his life, hidden within an unseen oasis of prosperity in East Africa, away from those who wanted to damage him more than he was already.

He returned to his humble life, to his humble hut near a humble village, filled with humble people, playing with the village children. Their innocence reminding him of all the good their terrible world still had to offer. It was difficult to believe he had been back under for nearly two years, indescribably grateful and impossibly indebted to the man who had had enough kindness in his heart to take him in and to the girl who worked tirelessly to fix him.

It took him a while to notice them. Brown lilies had replaced the etchings from a past life he was so familiar with. Minimal in their design and presentation, beautiful in the way they twisted and danced on his skin.

It took him years to notice. The world had ended, begun again, and left very little room for anything else.

He laid eyes on the first one not long after Tony’s funeral. In actuality, it wasn’t even he who saw it first.

He sat on the living room floor with little Morgan Stark as she played around him, on her insistence, away from the ruckus erupting from the kitchen. It was Sunday and dinner had quickly become a tradition at the wooden house by the lake. By now his heart had healed, found some peace with it all. His eyes while always kind, had finally shed some of their sadness.

“I like this one,” the tiny brunette said to the much larger brunette as she tied a purple polka dot ribbon to his vibranium wrist.

“Oh really,” he responded gently.

He listened intently to Morgan babble to him, let her ask all the questions she had about his arm and all the questions five-year-olds had. He let her play with his hair, let her pin and tie whatever her little heart desired into it.

It was sometime after he’d tied her hair up, he’d watched her push it out of her face several times before finally offering to fix it, that she’d spotted it. They were sat outside, Happy not too far behind. The two men had tried to teach Morgan to skip rocks on the lake before she asked if it scared the fish, then transitioned to a game of iSpy.

“Those flowers are pretty Mr. Bucky,” she said pointing to a thin line of them that had just begun to appear on the side of this right index finger.

“Hmm?” He inquired turning his attention to her, having lost himself in the beauty of the view of the lake and surrounding wildlife.

Morgan turned slightly toward him and gently poked the spot with her index finger, “pretty.”

A wave of cold trickled over him.

A pair of lilies opened up right in the spot Morgan had pointed out to him.

“O-oh,” he paused smiled weakly cautiously eyeing the illustration, “t-thanks, kid.”

“Morgan?”

The steady voice pulled them all from the moment. In the doorway behind them stood, Steve, Pepper, and Bruce.

“Come on in, sweetie. Time to get ready for bed”

Morgan stood herself up and hopped off into the house wordlessly, waving a goodbye to him, Happy ushering her in.

“Sweet kid.”

Pepper smiled at Bucky.

“Kept you busy, didn’t she?”

“What are they feeding these kids these days,” Bucky chuckled getting up from his spot on the porch stairs.

Steve chuckled wrapping an arm around his best friend as they all walked back inside. 

Bucky pulled the black sleeve of his jacket as far down as it would go, pushing back any feelings concerning the reappearance of flowers to the far corners of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments keep me going and are greatly appreciated. <3


	3. It was a beautiful day

It was a beautiful day.

The sun bathed them in its warm restorative glow as they ran. Your head tipped back as your body shook with laughter, shirt drenched from the water gun fight you had just tapped out of. They’d been spread out all over. Cousins here, uncles there. It was the first time they’d seen each other in years.

Grabbing a towel from the pile on the rented cabin’s steps, you trudged to the porch swing. Settling into the soft burnt-orange cushions, your eyes marveled at the beauty. The lake shone breathtakingly in the midday sun and the birds twittered away unseen in the tall trees that hid even the cabin itself.

A distant cry stole you away from your daydream, head whipping around left and right before you jumped to your feet and jogged toward the back of the cabin.

Your littlest cousin sat on the ground, tears streaming down his tiny face. your worried expression softened as you kneeled next to him, opening your arms to comfort him. He’d gotten a splinter on his thumb and was scared it would never come out. The thought made you chuckle as you went inside to grab some tweezers and a first aid kit.

How sweet and innocent were the young.

You distracted him as you retrieved the splinter. On the porch step in front of you, he sat quietly recounting why Spiderman was his favorite superhero, stumbling over his words the way four-year-olds tended to.

As you prepped his bandaid, you felt a tug on your shirt collar.

“What’s up, buddy? Does it hurt? Do you want a different bandaid?” you asked securing the small character bandage around his index finger.

He wordlessly tugged again, this time on the cuff. You looked up at him, brows raised in a soft inquiry to see him pointing to his toes.

They were blowing away as if consumed by some invisible fire, leaving nothing but ash.

Confusion flooded your eyes as you examined his form or rather lack thereof.

Watching helplessly, he floated away in the wind. There one second, gone the next.

Hot horror began to wash over your body, overpowered only by confusion. You moved quickly to the living room where the rest of them were preparing for dinner.

It took them a second to notice you, but when they did it was hard not to. A few of them stood up to approach, to calm. Your eyes darted around, brain struggling to comprehend the event that had just taken place. You began to lift your eyes to meet all of their concerned ones, only to find it happening all over again.

Screams and frantic exclamations filled the room as they all began to disintegrate, pushing you steadily into full panic. Slowly, then all at once, they were gone too.

Barely stopping to breathe you dashed desperately outside to the edge of the lake, where the last of them stood, but it was too late. All that was left was dust blowing away in the wind.

You sunk to your knees on the shore, defeated and alone.

The world was thrown into chaos.

Where did they all go? Why did they go? Why did they leave you here alone? The questions tortured you to no end, rattling inside your brain in the years that came and passed.

The remnants of it all were the only things that remained for a long time. Crashed cars lined the streets you passed on your way to the recreation center. You kept your eyes from looking at them. Vines overgrew houses. Plants grew unchecked. No one bothered to clean them up, scared to confront their new reality. To deal with it would be to accept it as fact.

“Where do we go now that they’re gone?”

You stood and eyed the poster wordlessly, arms pulled close to your body, forearms crossed over your chest.

“Doin’ okay?”

A warm hand rested itself on your shoulder, reminding you that you were in a safe space.

“Yeah, Steve.”

You relaxed your shoulders and placed a hand over his. In all honesty, no one really was, but they did their best.

You let a moment pass before turning to face him. He looked tired, he always did. The bags under his eyes were almost purple against his complexion.

“I see you’ve been getting your eight hours in,” you remarked sarcastically.

He offered no response save for a melancholic smile. He was grateful to have you to worry about him.

Both of you were quiet as you moved to the circle of chairs set in the center of the small auditorium. You had found solace in this place. It had an odd sense of community, family, made you feel less alone.

You spent almost all your days there, counseling, dedicating your time to helping the people who had helped you out of your own dark times. It gave life meaning in what was left. It gave hope in the darkness Thanos had gifted your world and you’d be damned if you ever let anyone fall into the same pit of despair as you did.

Steve admired you for that.

He recalled the first day you had stumbled into the small urban recreation center years ago. He remembered the day you finally felt safe enough to tell your story, watched you recount how you had lost everything, how you had lost your flowers; that in particular had spoken to his heart, having had lost his own as well somewhere along the way. He’d watched you grow, watched you heal and what could he say, he was attached.

Fridays were always your favorite. Steve watched you happily setting up tables as he arranged the excess folding chairs. Friday nights at the center they checked in with the kids who had lost their parents, guardians, those close to them. Steve observed as you laughed with the older kids then played with the younger ones. He laughed along as the high schoolers recalled the videos of him they’d been shown in gym class, recounting to him how they had struggled not to giggle themselves, then watched as they lined up to give you and him goodbye hugs.

If he was being honest, Fridays were his favorite too.

“Can I talk to you?” He asked as they cleaned up, the two of you alone in the space.

“Always.”

“I’m going to be gone for a little while.”

“Why?”

He laughed breathily in response, taken aback. Steve really should’ve expected this.

You watched as he struggled to pull his thoughts together, pacing shortly before sitting in the ring of chairs that was permanently set up in the middle of the room. Your back straightened as the energy in the room shifted. You had never seen him like this. Not for a long time at least.

“Steve, is everything okay?”

He gave you a reassuring smile before asking you to take a seat next to him. You did as he asked, sitting then scooting to the edge of your seat leaning toward him in concern. Steve took a breath and ran his hands over his face.

He wasn’t sure what to say or how to begin. He looked to you for reassurance. He was aware that you knew who he was, what the world knew him as. It wasn’t as if he had really tried to hide it, even so, you never knew him in that capacity. That didn’t make this any easier.

What he had to say weighed heavily on his chest. He had thought about it in the days and hours leading up to this exact moment. It wasn’t a subject to throw out so easily, but he knew he had to tell you. It was important to him that he told you.

He chose his words carefully, began slowly easing you into concepts he himself didn’t fully understand. He stumbled over his words, uncharacteristically nervous.

You listened as he rambled wordily, steadily, throwing out names you had only heard on the news and others you hadn’t. Infinity Stones. Antman. Quantum realm. Quantum mechanics. Time travel.

When he finished he waited for your response with bated breath, eyebrows knitted together as you processed the information, scanned your face for any indication of your thoughts.

Anxiety stirred in your stomach. They could get everyone back? Your eyes fell on the ground as you organized your thoughts, examining the gravity of his words. The proposition knocked the wind from you, stirring emotions you thought you had long dealt with, but you knew how much this meant to him. What it would mean to everyone.

It didn’t matter how you felt about it.

After what felt like a lifetime, you pulled him into a soft hug, trembling lightly.

“Be careful, Rogers, I can’t afford to lose anyone else.”

The followings weeks came and past. You fumbled with your thoughts, as you walked home stopping only to pay respects to your city’s memorial monument to the fallen.

Five years, the thought chilled your bones as your eyes took in the giant stone tablets. You caught yourself tracing you skin, absentmindedly, it seemed that old habits died hard. Pulling your long sleeves up to reveal empty space where light blue lines had once called you skin home, you sighed.

This was the part that always hit you hardest, made you feel the most terrible, the part that you could never get yourself to heal from. As far as you knew no one ever really did heal from losing a soulmate.

You shook the thoughts from your head and let it wander to Steve. The neverending worry weighing down on you as you approached your apartment, key in hand. Where was he? Was everyone okay? Was he okay? Willing them away, you pushed the dark green door open lazily.

It was the shoes that caught your attention first.

Spiderman light up sneakers.

Your eyes dragged themselves up from the ground. To your surprise, several familiar faces stared back at you, crowding your impossibly small domicile.

Steve really did it. They were back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild reader has appeared! How are you liking the story so far? Comments keep me going and greatly appreciated <3


	4. Bucky sat silently

Bucky sat silently at the edge of the bed. He was always awake before dawn. Blue eyes watched as particles danced in the rays leaking through the spaces between the blinds; golden light began pouring steadily into the space, cutting through the thick darkness of his room.

It was simple. Cream colored walls decorated simply with dark furniture and dark sheets, accented only by the small potted plants he’d brought from his time with T'Challa and his sister.

It’d been a long time since he had had a real place to live. A lifetime since he had somewhere to truly call his own. A real bed, an address, a place he could feel safe. It was nice.

Slowly he pushed himself off his already tidied bed and dragged himself through the rest of the empty apartment to the kitchen. Even at this ungodly hour, his roommate had already gone out for his morning jog with Sam, a routine for theirs from the past the pair had recently restarted.

It was a simple apartment. Full of simple things, chronically clean. A modern design style complimented by the plethora of things that reminded him of the old days; the old mahogany radio perched on the kitchen island and the gramophone prominently displayed in their living room were among his favorites.

He ate his breakfast on their small balcony, watching the play called humanity play out before him. He watched as mothers waited with their children for the school bus, spotted couples dancing in the morning sun, sharing a sweet moment. It was comforting knowing that even after seventy years the world had mostly stayed the same.

In the natural light, he traced the lines on his skin. Soft pensive expression on his face. Since little Morgan pointed them out he’d found himself searching for any others. He had them all over his body, small for the most part. He found himself keen to trace the one on his finger the most, it was the only one that was constantly visible, the most visceral reminder.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about them. No. He felt too many things about them. Chiefly, he felt hopeful and that made him uncomfortable. His life had been so cruel. He had been present for all the unfair things fate had in store. Why would it start being kind to him now?

He was afraid. Bucky Barnes was afraid to let himself find happiness, afraid that he’d pull his soulmate into a world of hurt and pain. Be too complicated.

A dark grey cloud of despair settled on his muscular shoulders as he tumbled down the rabbit hole of negative thoughts. He sat in the silence for a while longer until the morning twittering of the birds urged him from his seat.

Rising, he walked to the kitchen, placed his dishes in the sink to soak, then moved to his bathroom. He needed a shower. The cool water refreshing against his hot skin, clarity and the closest thing he had to peace returned to him, easing his spiraling mind.

He let himself think of his past, the good parts. Running around Brooklyn with Steve getting into trouble, his family, the Howling Commandos, Peggy, and finally Dot. The fond memories lifting his spirits as he dried off.

He wondered how they had lived, if they ever thought of him before they...

He felt himself slipping back to the sorrow of regret and lost love, lost life, longing for what could have been. He swallowed hard, an attempt to recenter himself. He'd found closure, or at least he thought he had, but he couldn't deny that the feelings still lingered.

He wanted to let them all know he was okay.

The resolve picked him up a little. He had never really had the time for a visit. What would he say? How would he explain everything to them? The bittersweetness followed him as he closed the apartment door behind him. He’d need to pick up some flowers for their graves on the way.

\---

Steve let his eyes take in the sight of your face across the round cafe table, your hair blowing in the soft midday wind. It had been nearly two months since he’d last seen you, weeks since the tearful phone call he placed to let you know he was safe.

“How have you been?” Steve spoke first as you set your baby blue mug back down on the table.

“I’ve been good.”

You took the opportunity to take the sight of him in. His impossibly blue eyes cool in the mild heat, his beautiful blonde locks glistening in the sun. He looked like a vision, relaxed, rested, refreshed or at the very least more so then you had ever seen him.

You filled him in on your life since he had been away and Steve did the same, concealing only a few details to keep you from worrying, informing you of his decision to pass on the shield, telling you about the family he had made from himself in this century.

A moment passed sweetly between you, exchanging optimistic smiles at the fortune the universe had afforded you both. The conversation flowed easily. This was your favorite part about being around him, everything came so naturally.

“So, Rogers, what are your plans?” You asked softly, timidly breaking the silence.

Steve leaned back in his chair, pensive. His thoughts wandered to his lost friends, what they had given him: a chance at a real life. What were his plans?

“What’s it like, the world?” He asked almost comically, an internal query having unconsciously escaped. Steve had been awake for over twelve years yet he still felt a little lost. He had always been a soldier. A hero watching from afar, protecting, caught up in bigger things. He had never had time to find his place or where he fit in.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” You asked in a whisper leaning toward him in your chair, excited. 

You often forgot that behind it all, Steve was from another era, transplanted to your time, stolen from his. Relatively speaking, this world was still so new to him. You brightened at the realization that you could be a part for his journey, “I’d be happy to come along.”

A smile spread on his face at the suggestion, “I’d like that.”

The two of you continued the light-hearted banter as Steve walked you home; the sun slinking behind the horizon, his coat wrapped around you. Exchanging goodnights, you handed it back to him as you reached your doorstep, watching as he pulled it back onto his impossibly broad shoulders.

From your open doorway, you touched the cut on your right index finger as he left. A bittersweet feeling burned at your heart. If Steve Rogers wasn’t the person meant for you, your soulmate, who in the world was?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi. I hope you guys like this one. I promise just a little more exposition and they'll meet. Comments are greatly appreciated and keep me going :)


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